Kids Leave At All Ages ~ a 10 minute writing

I wrote this on the way to visit my son for the first time since he’d moved out. I was nervous to see him and decided to pull over and do a 10-minute writing to clear my head.

Sometimes I think he is running away, other times flying away. Either way, he’s going away. That’s it. One way is easier to think about than the other. But both are equally hard to understand.

A fledgling at 14 moving into his father’s den. Not a nest. Not cozily prepared for his entrance into the world. But, one built for a boy becoming a man.

That interim phase called teenage-hood. God I wish I could recall my own. And I do. A bit. But it’s so damn hard when you are the mother and this is your baby whose fingers and toes grew in you and of you. A child whose eyes have such depth but no longer for me.

It’s his dad he seeks out now. Aches to be with. As my own heart aches for the boy-man who is still my baby. Whom I want to push down into a spiral that I can hold in the palm of my hand and in the pit of my stomach. But he is taller than me now with hair on his legs, a voice so deep, and size 13 feet.

I let go, I release even though I can still feel his feet kicking inside of me, his head thrust into my hands pushing into me as I rubbed my big belly. Now, I don’t reach out and touch him. There’s this unspoken agreement being communicated that I am slow to pick up on, because it just is.

So, I watch from afar and I worry and I wonder who he’ll become. Now that he’ll no longer be living with me who will he be. I miss him already but I know he is safe. I have scoped out his new school, I have walked the city.

I have invited myself into the den where he sleeps. One that smells like man and of stinky feet. Where there are piles of laundry and t.v. screens to count. Where the bed isn’t made and no longer my worry. For he is safe and he is somewhere where he is loved and he is living his life.

Away from me or so he believes. But no boy, no child, can ever really leave his mama. For little does he know that she keeps him tucked in her palm and in the core of her belly she pulsates her love to him. Where she keeps him warm. And where she keeps him close.

Soul collage, like the one I did at the top of this page, is a way to process and express feelings that you have inside like anger, happiness, fear, worries, grief, uncertainty, joy, hopes, dreams, or love. You do it by looking through magazines and cutting out any pictures that catch your eye and then you piece them together in whatever way feels right on your card. I’m always amazed by the card I make. Like this one…I went in feeling sad and sorry for myself. What presented though was a card of thankfulness at getting to be my son’s mom and having the ability to let go so he could fly on his own. All the while keeping love in my heart. ✨